Chapter 442: Homeward Bound
An African elephant let out a sharp trumpet, collapsing to the ground. It stumbled and jostled, unseating seven or eight individuals. Some, utterly fatigued, seemed to slide down like they were on a slide, their bodies rolling a couple of times on the platform, panting heavily.
For these warriors, be it physically or mentally, they had reached their limits long ago.
Harry found it difficult to even twitch a muscle at this moment. Every inch of his body ached terribly. He wanted to lift his head, but his neck seemed to have given up, allowing him only a sideways glance.
He looked at Ron and Hermione. The trio's breaths resembled leaky old bellows. At that moment, Ron suddenly burst into exaggerated laughter. He lay on the ground, pounding the white marble surface with his fists, tears streaming down his face.
"Look...look at the elephant's nose...haha...it's like a runny bubble..."
Harry and Hermione strained to look. The African elephant lay on the ground, slowly reverting to its human form, but you could still see a bubble hanging at the tip of its long trunk... Harry speculated it was the Bubble-Head Charm, but... a runny bubble?
He couldn't help but shrug his shoulders, trying hard not to burst into laughter. Hermione seemed to be struggling to contain her amusement as well.
Cedric, Colin, and Roger limped over to their side, not too gracefully sitting down on the ground, breathing heavily. Cedric, already quite pale, now looked as though he'd been soaking in water for three days straight, resembling a vampire. Colin seemed to have caught a cold, his breathing producing intermittent whistling sounds. As for Roger, he just lay flat on the ground, engaging in a duet with the warrior beside him, with loud snores.
"He's exhausted..." Cedric pointed at Roger Davies, wearily speaking. "Thanks, your guardian helped a lot."
"Not really," Harry awkwardly replied. He wasn't used to this atmosphere, quickly scanning around - his neck began hurting again, the skin at the back rigid like an old tire. "Is everyone here?" he asked, struggling to find something to say.
He saw Fleur, pale-faced, speaking to a fellow female student, while Krum, grim-faced, surprisingly robust in terms of stamina, paced around with folded legs, occasionally glancing at the approaching merpeople guards. Gravely's expression matched Krum's as he glared at a warrior who buried his face in his knees.
"He probably shouldn't have stepped out of the protection charm at the start; probably going to lose some points," Cedric remarked following his gaze. "Everyone's here. What about you? Not caught?"
Harry shook his head, a faint smile forming on Cedric's lips. "Then you're lucky."
"Difficult dealing with merpeople?" Harry said, trying to keep any trace of triumph out of his voice, turning his head to look beyond the dais, where hundreds of merpeople encircled it. Yet, he didn't feel much impending danger.
"Merpeople's domain is the water; they have a coordinated method," Cedric explained. "They weave ropes, cables, and even nets from water grass... each one is a skilled ambush artist."
Harry stared at the merpeople's iron-grey skin, seaweed-like green hair, and murky yellow eyes. He had to admit there was some truth in what was said. They were ambushed too, but as Cedric said, they were lucky enough to have two people there at the time.
"...and those Grindylows, relentless like hounds, obeying merpeople commands or not are two different things. These Grindylows can execute simple orders, like holding a rope or such... and the more exhausted we became, the less magic we could muster," Cedric shook his head.
Madame Pomfrey glared at him, bewildered, before moving to the next person.
"Thank you, Madame Pomfrey," Harry said, swallowing the fiery liquid. He, Ron, and Hermione showed no sign of protest, only to divert Madame Pomfrey's attention away from them.
"A stimulant, perhaps with something else added; I can taste the hint of mint," Ron muttered, releasing streams of white vapor from his ears and nostrils.
Percy strode over, grabbing Ron's neck firmly, "I'm going to strangle you, Ron!"
Hagrid and Lupin were seen making their
way through the crowd.
Hermione looked somewhat crestfallen; she hadn't told her parents yet, but perhaps for the third task, she could ask her mom and dad. A blanket was draped over her, and she looked surprisedly at Professor McGonagall.
"I think you need a hug," Professor McGonagall said.
"Oh... um, I suppose," Hermione pursed her lips, giving McGonagall a brief hug. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Professor Snape and Dumbledore squatting by the water, conversing with the merchief.
Felix keenly noticed her gaze, giving her a thumbs-up before refocusing. He was quite astonished, watching Dumbledore emit a string of piercing sounds from his mouth, with the merchief leader responding in the same language. He muttered to himself, weren't merchiefs supposed to speak English?
Finally, Dumbledore straightened up. "Felix, we're going over to have a debriefing with the other judges." The heads of the schools gathered again, Fudge and Bagman rushing over, discussing in low voices.
Dumbledore relayed the information the merchief leader provided — unlike the footage visible only through the warriors' wristwatches, the merchiefs could offer a more dimensional and impartial evaluation.
Fudge offered an objective perspective, "This competition was quite complex; every team showed impressive performances. Let's start by discussing noteworthy aspects..."
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